Ark survival: book 1 the island
by AlphaWolf Summer
Summary: Our hero wakes up on a island with hardly any memory of his past. He must fight against the island, meeting and befriending other survivors along the way are the obelisks the answer or will he die along the way like so many before him.
1. Chapter 1

_**I do not own ark survival evolved.**_

 _ **Now that the disclamer is over with on with the story and i hope u like it.**_

Life it is always changing, trying its best to improve to make itself, stronger, faster, better, smarter, nowadays the homosapien otherwise known as the human is the reigning predator and dominant species. But what happens when a person is thrown back to a time when that wasn't the case at all, a time when humans were at the bottom of the food chain and prey to almost all species in existence, a time of ferocious killer beasts and insects the size of full grown humens. I welcome you dear readers to the ARK can you survive or will you be another source of food.

Scorching beams of light blazed across his back, sending bright flares of pain lancing throughout his body. The Sun was a beacon of misery and pain; dry and scalding, making every aspect of his current life a living nightmare. Hungry waves lapped at his ankles while a coating of powdery sand clung unpleasantly to his skin. Overhead, the distant cries of unfamiliar seabirds echoed over the vast beach.

The man was almost completely naked, save a pair of simple fiber undergarments that chafed roughly against the sparse bit of skin that it protected. He lay unmoving for a long time, pressed against the sandy shore until he could take the unrelenting glare of the morning Sun no longer. With an labored grunt, the man rolled over and tryed to push himself up only to fall back down, he pushed one more time and got to his knees. Almost instantly, he was struck with a splitting headache that felt like a thousand knives hitting his skull all at once. Fiery rays of light dance across his eyes, the Sun was too bright. The man collapsed back into the sand with a sharp intake of air, struggling to push back the nausea threatening to overwhelm him. Every heartbeat became a struggle, every breath a war. After a moment of toughing out the pain and catching his breath, the man pushed against the ground once again. It felt like a hammer pounded against his skull with every pulse and he almost blacked out from the small exertion.

The Sun was intensely bright and searing hot, it threatened to boil him alive. The waves were too loud and the cries of the seabirds too sharp. Black spots danced across his vision. The man knelt in the blistering heat, panting to catch his breath. Just when he was ready to collapse and let the Sun slowly bake him to death, some primal instinct kicked in and he rose. The man staggered drunkenly toward the line of trees farther down the beach. One step. Then another. His feet started moving on their own. Twice he stumbled, but he managed to catch himself in time. If he fell now, he would likely never get up again. The pounding of the clashing waves eventually began to dull.

The man was within steps of the shade when he could not go any farther. His legs were growing weak and heavy, his head clouded. It would take every bit of his willpower to stay upright just a moment longer. His legs gave out beneath him and when the man stumbled, he finally accepted his fate. As the ground raced to meet his head, he had one final thought: at least this isn't such a terrably bad place to die. And then his limp body crashed into the sandy floor.

The man awoke aroumd noon, Before anything else, he would have to tend to his own needs. He groaned and sat up, looking himself over. A thin coat of sand stuck everywhere. He began to brush it off and cursed when his hand brushed against his shoulders. They were a tender pink verging on red and hurt whenever he touched them. The back of his neck he could not see but based on gentle probing that made him wince it was sunburnt even worse than his shoulders. There were blisters on his back and some, faded scars that never fully healed lining his arms. The rough undergarment had chafed his skin raw. They were all minor wounds that would heal eventually, but until they did, they would be a constant irritation.

The man felt a sharp pain from his stomach as it rumbled. He had no idea when he had last eaten. He stood up groggily and glanced around at his surroundings. He was sitting with his back to the beach. Closest to him and well away from the lapping tides, tall trees with thick trunks towered imposingly, shielding him from the Sun. Grey and green moss clung to the bark while vines hung off thick branches. Where he was sitting, the sand had given way to dark green hand sized leaves that covered the floor. Interspersed amongst the leaves were small bushes and skinny ferns that swayed in the wind. When he looked closer, he could see clusters of something small and blue hanging onto the shrubs.

The man approached with caution; As the man was debating whether they were edible or not, he noticed a pair of strange new creatures sticking to the shade on the outskirts of the trees. They looked like two huge lizards. The beasts came up to perhaps his waist and stood on two legs. They had short, stubby little arms and quills that ran all the way down their backs and across long, thin tails. The bigger one had a scaly hide of dark green while the smaller of the two was a light, grey. The dark green one had two big grey crests on its head, the smaller one had a similar pair but half the size and much more dull. Most noticeably however, were the two large frills that both lizards had on either side of their scaly heads. The man assumed that the two were mates, the larger one being the male, the smaller one female. Even as he watched, the male arched its head back and hissed, the frills fanning out. The female took up the call, hooting and replicating the pose.

Suddenly the male snapped its head forward with a snarl, jaw open and teeth gleaming. A blob of green liquid rocketed out of the mouth, straight at one particularly chubby chicken. The bird screeched when it was struck, flapping useless wings and staggering away from the danger. The rest of the flock scattered, clucking and squawking. Where the fowl was hit, feathers steamed and parted, revealing shiny red flesh underneath. The female lizard spat, striking the fat chicken on a plump leg and bringing the poor bird down.

The lizards were on it in an instant.

The bigger reptile leaped, clawing for the neck. The female was right behind, closing sharp teeth around the leg in a savage bite. With a fierce wrench, the leg was ripped clean off, red tendons hanging from where it had been. The bird wailed in agony. The male finally ended the suffering by slashing a sharp claw across the soft neck, blood spilling over the already tainted beach. After the bird was dead, the two huge lizards began tearing at the corpse where it lay. The man shuddered at the gory sight but at the very least, now he knew the birds could be eaten.

The man edged down the beach, away from the fierce lizards and closer to where the flock had fled. He snatched a sturdy stick off the ground with a slight point to it. When he walked up to a bird it squawked and eyed him for a moment then went back to scratching in the dirt. The man took a moment to pet the bird on the head. It glanced up at him curiously, he speared the bird in the neck quickly. Blood sprayed out across the beach, the yellow sand drank it up eagerly, turning a vivid red.

"Sorry friend," the man murmured as he lifted the makeshift spear. The end was slick with blood.

The man hefted his branch high and started back towards the shade, his trophy dangling from it limply by the neck. The other birds gazed at him with dull, uncomprehending eyes and went back to pecking in the sand. By now the Sun was nearly halfway in the sky. The two frilled lizards caught the scent of the great fat bird the man held and turned to watch him but made no move to steal his prize. If they were still hungry, there was slower prey to be found. The male hissed when he made to go under the shade so instead of risking a fight, he trudged away from the jungle.

The man needed wood for a fire, he was definitely not eating this bird raw. The trees here were spaced much farther apart than before, separated by a sea of greenish yellow grass. Ahead of him was a steep rocky rise, nearly twice his height with a flat patch of yellow grass on top. There was a gentle slope that lead to the top, opposite the side of the cliff bordering the jungle. He climbed the gentle rise and looked around. Behind him was the beach, to his right the gentle hills rolled on, disturbed by the occasional tree. To his front was a small brook, bubbling from a hole in the rock and behind that were more hills and trees. To his left was the jungle, mysterious, ever changing ... and still too close for comfort, he thought as he heard some strange bellows echoing from the trees.

The man hiked back to the base of the crag, jabbed his stick into the dirt and knelt next to the brook. The water was clear and clean, a tiny sip revealed. He cupped his hands and took a few swallows. It was cool and did not taste strange so he was uncomplaining. The man splashed some water over himself to rinse off the dust and grime that still clung to his body. The water felt cool and soothing against his skin. After washing himself down, the man lurched back to his feet and went to gather wood for a fire.

He peeled dried bark from a tree and pulled up a bushel of dead grass for kindling. On top of these, he piled small twigs and brittle branches. From a long dead tree he snapped off thick branches to lay over the twigs and from the jungle he dragged a few old logs. At first the man had tried to start the fire by a rubbing a branch against bark but after yielding no results, he threw his hands up in frustration and kicked a rock as hard as he could. Only as the stone flew did he see that it was sharp and a rusty orange colour. He snatched it from the ground and struck it against a smooth rock from the beach. It took a few tries but when he was ready to give up, the rocks flared and a spark landed on the dried grass.

The man cupped his hands around the flame to protect it from the wind and it grew. The fire spread rapidly once it had gotten a decent size. Flames leaped from the grass and bark to the twigs and then up the branches, becoming a huge blaze. When most of the kindling had burned away, the man threw a log into the fire and the flames swelled. The man laughed and threw his hands into the air in victory. After he was sure the fire was fine, the man wrestled the chicken off of the stick and laid it on a flat rock. First he severed the head with a few deft strikes from a sharp rock and then began the arduous process of plucking every feather from the body. It was long and bloody work, the man was thankful for the shade of the cliff. The Sun was three quarters of the way across the sky when he was finished.

The man re-impaled the bird against the stick and jammed it into the ground, at an angle above the fire. He leaned back against a smooth boulder and sharpened another branch using a sharp rock. The stick was strong and sturdy, it came up to his shoulder and would be good at stabbing or throwing if he ever needed it. Up until now his only weapon had been the snapped branch he had found on the beach. He was glad for a new weapon. As he watched the fire and sharpened the stick he began to think.

Why was he here and how did he get here? He didn't know the answer to either of those. What was his name? That one he could almost answer, it was just at the corner of his brain, so familiar yet so strange. His life he could hardly remember anything. He tried hard but faces were blurry, most conversations made no sense and places were dark, grey and distorted. And then his name came back to him, Michael Hunt that was his name. Michael Hunt he said it again still it sounded a little strange to him. He glanced down at the roasting fowl to see a rich, beautiful golden brown skin, crisp and crackling. Grease dripped off the bird like sweat, sizzling and sputtering as the droplets were swallowed by the fire. He yanked the makeshift spit out of the dirt to let the bird cool. His stomach rumbled and growled, louder than anything in the jungle. After a few moments, he could not stop himself from tearing into the bird. He ripped off a leg and cursed, tossing the meat from hand to hand until it cooled. He bit into the crispy skin, grease dripping down his chin. The meat tasted heavenly. The skin was seared crackling and crispy, the flesh inside a tender pink. In no time at all, the only thing that remained of the chicken leg was a few bones tossed haphazardly to the edge of his camp. He pried a second leg from the bird, this one cooler than the one before. He attacked the chicken with the same ferocity as before, wolfing down the meat in savage bites. When he was finished, grease smeared his chin and slivers of meat clung to his teeth yet his stomach still growled ruefully, hungry for more.

He tested touching the body of the bird but snatched his hand back immediately, wincing at the pain. He sucked on his finger to draw out the heat. The rest of the bird was still too hot to eat, so instead Michael grabbed his makeshift spear and headed back to the beach to spear anotherone. Even after finishing the meat by the fire, he would surely still be hungry. michael had gone the entire day without any food up until now he relised. He would likely need a second chicken to quench his hunger.

When he emerged on the beach, the sky was a pretty pink colour. The two frilled lizards were gone, but where there had only been one corpse before, there were now three. The brutes liked chicken michael noted. He would keep his leftovers handy in case the beasts ever tried to raid his camp. There were still plenty of the fat birds waddling around though, and he speared one lightning quick. The others scattered in a haste, but michael knew that the next time they saw him they would waddle up to him all the same.

When he returned to camp the fire was still going, though much smaller than before. And so he fed a few branches to the flames, then drove his spear into the ground. The Sun had gone down completely and everything beyond the fire was pitch black. If he had thought the jungle was unnerving during the day, it was terrifying during the night. Where the shadows had only shifted with the wind ever so slightly before, now they danced and twirled like demons, black and terrifying. Every sputter of his fire caused the darkness to shift. From those deadly shadows something unnerved him. He set up grabbing his spear from the ground, Michael lifted himself up and stared into the bushs. A single dodo waddled from the bushes and he let out a sigh, stabbing the spear down into the ground again he set to work cleaning the other bird. Michael set and ate the last of the first bird while the second cooked. when the second bird was done it quickly followed the first and was devoured. After eating the last bit of meat he tossed the bones with the rest of them, and settled down to sleep for the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer I own nothing but my oc survivors**_

When Michael awoke the next day, the fire was burned out, he was still hungry though. The fat chicken like birds, was a good meal but he was hungry again. He knew he needed a actual base, somewhere that was safe to rest at night. " _Ok to the beach I'll forgo the birds right now I'll gather a bunch of Barry's for breakfast, while I look for a better location._ " Michael muttered to himself, the fire was a pile of smoldering coals in the faint morning rays.

He drank from the brook to quench his thirst, afterward he grabbed his spear and set out back onto the beach. He passed a flock of the chickens some fatter then others, but he kept walking he hiked up the hill again and took in the yellow sea of grass. The rolling green hills beyond might hold his future or death, Michael sighed and started walking towards the hills watching the area constantly as to be aware of things around him. He walked till the sun was midway across the sky before stopping. Michael stopped to wipe the sweat off his brow, he took in his surroundings again, the rolling hills had turned into a vast plain of bright green grass with a small river flowing alongside it.

A couple familiar animals rommed the planes in front of him. Michael stared in awe as he watched Parasur, Tryceratops, and the ever deadly Segosaurus roamed around. Michael also saw what looked like a cagg from where he stood, he checked the position of the sun and guessed it to be midday or a little later. He needed to find a place to stay the night at least, so he could hunt and build a fire for the night. So Michael started towards what he thought was a small cragg It took him around fifteen to twenty minutes to reach the opening.

Michael stared at what he had assumed was a small cragg only it wasn't a cragg it was a small cave, enough to fit four or five men easily he grinned as he looked around. " _If the night is a good one I may just stay here as a base for a while._ " Michael muttered as he turned to look at his resources on hand. The small river would be good for water and maybe fish, there were finish he could hunt so that was also food.

What looke like the beginning of a forest to the far right of the small cave would be a source of wood, for fires and building materials. Large rocks also decorated the sides of the field past where he had come from, so he knew he could get stones easily. He shook his head and started for the forest sticking to the outer edge as he gathered wood for his fire, making several trips to get enough wood and peeling thatch off a dead tree to work as his kindling. Michael settled down in the cave, putting the thatch down first he put smaller twigs on next then small branches, before pulling the same small rock out he had come to remember being flint he struck it against a small rock twice. The first produced small sparked that didn't catch the second time produced a bigger spark that, caught the dry thatch Michael leaned down and started to blow on the small ember to get it going.

All to soon he had a small fire going, it would hold till he could go catch some meat to cook on the fire. Michael stood grabbing his spear from the ground, he walked out of the small cave entrance and walked down the hill starting the hunt. Michael crouched down and started moving slowly along in the chest high grass, he had noticed a small deer while he gathered the last batch of thatch he hoped to bring it down. The deer had only wondered farther from the forest into the field, he made his way behind a couple rocks to keep out of sight while he made his way a little closer. The deer held it's head to the ground eating the grass and what little berry's were on the ground.

He would look up every so often to check the surroundings for predators, not knowing there was one less then 15 feet from him already. Michael crouched behind the rocks watching the deer for a minute or two till it wandered a little closer to him. He waited till it dropped it's head back down again and silently raised up pulling the spear back he threw it as hard as he could, the spear hit the deer right behind the shoulder and stuck out the other side of the deer. The deer jumped at the impact and took two steps before falling to the ground, the spear had hit it in the heart so it was good and dead. Michael stood from his crouch and started to walk towards the dead animal, he he gave a small Prayer for the animals spirit.

He tried to pull the spear from the deer only for it to break when he tugged on it, Michael cursed before looking at what had been the handle of his spear It had broke almost cleanly off leaving a small spike at the top. He set it aside, thinking he might be able to use it for something else later on for now he had a deer to gut. He used a small sharp peice of flint to start gutting the deer, once that was done he started on the hide trying to keep as much as he could so he would be able to make some clothes later on. All said and down it took him about 45 minutes to gut and clean the deer using a larger stone, he found near by to break the bones and get the shoulders and hams off. He left the rest of the body alone as he started back to his small cave prize in his arms, when he arrived at the cave he set the hide covered meat down and fed the fire.

Once he had a good fire going again he unfolded the hide and set to cutting small steaks off the hams for his dinner that night. While the ham steaks were cooking over the fire Michael started sharpening sticks to put at the entrance of the cave for the night. Stopping after 20 to 25 minutes to eat the meat that was cooked and put another on to cook, he finally finished making the makeshift barricades and sticking them in the dirt. Michael picked up a peice of flint and set about making a head for his spear, knowing it would take about three or four hours to make it. He stopped to eat the second steak when he was half way done with the head of the spear, Michael knew he would have to find a type of cordage to use for lashing the head to the body of the spear.

He stopped when the spear head was finished and looked at the single spear he had made when he was doing the makeshift spikes for his cave entrance. Picking the spear up he measured how far down he would have to cut the tip so the flint would fit snugly into the spear body, making a small mark with a rock he looked out and was not surprised to see the sun go down. Michael set the spear down leaning it on the wall by himself as he settled down to rest for the night. feeding the fire one more time before falling asleep for the night. Michael awoke close to midnight, he noticed that his fire was almost dead nothing but a bed of hit coals now. He stopped to listion and didn't here anything no animal calls or movement, which meant that a predator was in the immediate area.

The scream that pierced the night air actually made Michael jump a little, before he realised the scream was human in nature and not animal. Bolting up he grabbed his spear and the flint spear head he had made as a back up before he ran out of the cave entrance and stopped to listion again. The scream had come from what he assumed was the direction of the forest, he heard the scream again this time a little closer. He knew the scream had be coming from the forest, so he started running as fast as he could hoping he made it in time to save the person who had screamed. Michael crashed though the underbrush for what felt like hours but was only minutes, before he burst into a clearing taking everything in.

A young woman was cornered against a small rock while two huge sabercat's, paced around in front of her just outside the reach of her small bigger of the two cats crouched and got ready to pounce on the woman, Michael reacted as fast as he could throwing the spear before the big cat could make his move. The spear hit the cat in the back, not a kill shot but it got the attenchen of both cats. The woman was had a shocked look on her face when the cats turned to face the man who threw the spear. The bigger cat roared and jumped at the man, the smaller one made to do the same but the woman stabbed with her small spear.

While the woman fought the smaller cat Michael was busy dodging the bigger cat, he dodged left when it swiped at him and took the chance to grabb the spear. When he grabbed the spear he yanked down and pulled, the spear slid out of the sabercat and Michael spun out of the way of another swipe. Unfortunately he didn't do so fast enough as the cats claws cut across his arm leaving three very bloody gashes on his left arm. He flipped the spear to his off hand and grinned as the cat jumped at him, he swung the spear like a club hitting the sabercat in the head. The sabercat hit the ground but was back up an instant later and let out another roar, Michael could tell the cat was frustrated that the prey wasn't as easy as it thought.

He threw the spear one more time but the spear hit the cat in the shoulder instead of the head. The sabercat smacked the spear with his paw and broke it off. The stub left was no more then a couple inches sticking out of its shoulder area, the cat backed off and roared. When the cat backed off Michael took a second to look at the woman and saw she was handling the other cat well enough. The bigger cat looked back at the smaller one, then turned and looked at Michael before it bounded off into the forest. Michael watched the cat till it was out of sight before he looked over at the woman, just as the smaller cat drove the woman to the ground.

The woman screamed as she fell to the ground, she knew it was over now the cat would rip her throat out and eat her.

 _ **A/N Let me know what y'all think of this so far my first story so I'm hoping to keep up with a chapter a week maybe or maybe a chapter every two weeks**_


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